Two years ago, on February 8th, I got the call your fight was over. I already knew. The pain I felt as I collapsed to the floor just before my phone rang told me you were gone. Even in death, our bond was one I wasn’t letting go of without a fight. They told me “now I could see you” but also told me “only for a few minutes” as your body was still contagious.

Little did they know I came fully prepared to finally be able to tuck you in to bed after 22 days apart — one last time. It’s not our happiest memory but being able to do that for you once more is one I’ll treasure forever. I just hope you knew …

May we meet again. I love you, Daddy!